


I only want Arya to be loved

by Marcus_S



Series: Arya Stark's Multiverse [13]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Breasts, Condoms, Ejaculation, F/M, Five AUs, Fluff, Happy Ending, Oral Sex, Pornography, Post Coital Cuddling, Pubic Hair, Public Masturbation, Smut, Surealist Erotica, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, explicit genital detail, genital odour, large prick, locating the clitoris, post coital disappointment, romantic sex, shaved pubes, teats, visible pregnant bulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_S/pseuds/Marcus_S
Summary: But how do you want it to happen. This story is set in five alternate realities in which Arya Stark spends her wedding night in very different ways.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Arya Stark/Rob Arryn, Joffrey Baratheon/Arya Stark, Sandor Clegane/Arya Stark
Series: Arya Stark's Multiverse [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779334
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	1. Pure Fluff

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyPrairie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyPrairie/gifts).



> Not all the stories feature the same two protagonists, if you have a favourite Arya/XX I hope you’ll still read the others as I felt the change was important to the overall plot line and I do think there is plot here, but it’s not the simplistic ‘describe Arya’s wedding night’.
> 
> If you the read the chapter of ‘Arya Stark beyond the Sunset Sea’ entitled ‘Confessions of a Nosey Parker’, you will understand where three of the chapters come from. Initially the work was mean to have three chapters but like most of my writing it took on a life of its own once I started, so the others are there to complete the series in what seems to me a logical manner.

Arya Stark had sailed once round the world; disappointingly there was nothing West of the Sunset Sea except Essos so she keep going and came home. She was greeted on the quayside in King’s Landing by her siblings, Bran with a smug look on his face that said, ‘I knew it all along’ and Sansa with that grim look that said she was going to go all ‘Queen of the North’ on Arya. In the time it had taken to get round the world Arya had definitely grown up, in that while she was still only five feet and an inch she had mentally and physically matured. She therefore wasn’t over happy when Sansa’s first words were “Since we heard you were on your way home we’ve been talking and it’s time you stopped fooling about like a child. The Starks need an heir and in time you’re going to provide one”.

Arya’s first instinct was to go straight back to the boat and tell the skipper to cast off and go back round the other way, but the honest truth was she was sick of salt pork and pickled cabbage, sick of emptying her bowels and bladder into a bucket that might slide sideways if the ship heeled suddenly, sick of the endless vulgar comments of the crew, particularly the lecherous old man who skippered the vessel; in fact sick of everything that meant going to sea, so she faced her sister “Do I get to pick my husband”.

Sansa turned to Bran, “You see she still hasn’t grown up”. She turned back to Arya “Don’t be infantile; Bran and I have discussed the political options and I must say you’ve done yourself no favours staying away. Gendry Baratheon was clearly the best choice, the man even cared about you; but you abandoned him so he’s married Meera Reed and she’s given him a son already, with another child visibly on the way”.

That stopped Arya in her tracks, somewhere in her mind had been the idea that if the worse came to the worse she could always marry Gendry; if only Sandor had survived the fall of the Red Keep. Ah well she’d tried and failed, better face the medicine. “So who do I get; understand if he can’t behave himself I’ll knife him, I’m not taking any of the shit you put up with Sansa. My husband needs to understand that I can do forcible penetration as well as any man and it would probably be fatal”. She saw Sansa wince, she shouldn’t really have said that but she was angry and she was going to have to co-operate with her siblings so, “I’m sorry Sansa that came out wrong, but cut to the chase are we going to be playing ‘Welcome to my castle’ on my wedding night or ‘Monsters and maidens’ followed by ‘Hide the treasure’.

Brans face twisted into another of his slightly sick smiles, “It’s interesting that you should refer to children’s games Arya as I believe your groom is keen on ‘Welcome to my castle’.

Gods she hated Bran at most cryptic “Are you using that as a euphemism to tell me he prefers something in him, a man’s man”.

Bran just smiled; Sansa replied for him “No Arya, well I don’t think so, it’s complicated and I don’t really want to discuss it on the dockside. Can we go back to the Red Keep where it’s more comfortable and more private”.

Arya gave a resigned sigh “Lead on then”.

\------------------------------------------------

“Robert Arryn, but he’s barely breeched. Last time I saw him he was sucking on his mother’s teat”.

Bran had left Sansa the unenviable task of explaining the details to Arya having just told her “Trust me this is a good option in the long run”.

Sansa’s face continued to say she didn’t see Arya viewing it that way. “Well let’s start with the first advantage of that to you, it will be years before he wants to consummate the marriage”.

“It will be years before he _can_ consummate the marriage”.

“Exactly, so as long as you’re discreet, you can do whatever it is you want to do for quite a while yet. Secondly he will be in your hands you can mould him into the man you want him to be, it won’t be hard”.

“No, once he starts to mature and his brain goes down between his legs I’m sure he’ll turn into a typical Lord of Westeros”.

“Well that’s your challenge”.

Arya took another long draught of the wine, she was painfully aware that she would be drunk and have a monstrous hangover before the morning was out, but at this point she didn’t really care. “All right, forget the politics that means you and Bran think this is the way it goes, tell me something about him, he’s six right”.

Sansa’s face went into ‘Here we go’ again Arya just knew this wasn’t getting any better. “Yes and I’m afraid the best I can say is that he’s small and painfully thin for his age. He is pale with brown hair and big eyes. He’s not particularly well either, nothing that might kill him, but he’s not robust so his interests are focussed on things like puppetry and songs. I’ve heard he really does enjoy playing ‘Come into my castle’ and because he’s physically weak he’s not really been tutored so he’s not going to challenge you intellectually”.

“I can see it in your face Sansa, I’m getting the good side of the story here. I’m getting a spindly, pigeon chested, potbellied runt with a runny nose”.

“Well actually it’s his eyes not his nose”.

“Anything else”.

“His skins a bit splotchy and” her Sansa paused; Arya could see she was building up to the big one. It couldn’t be a problem between the legs because they obviously wanted to breed from him eventually, what else could be wrong with the child. Sansa finally managed to continue “His mother’s been a bit overprotective, he’s not been weaned”.

The last left Arya speechless; she just slugged back the wine and refilled her glass to take another long pull. “And Bran says it will all work out in the end!”, the force in her voice made her opinion of this view obvious.

“Yes, I was as disbelieving as you obviously are, but he’s insistent that ten or twelve years from now you will be a happy and contented woman and the Starks will have the heir we all need”.

“Well who am I to contradict my brother’s third eye. We might as well get on with it”.

“Good I’m glad you feel that way because he’s here in the castle and the wedding feast is arranged for tomorrow”.

Arya was about to ask how that could happen when she realised her sister’s always expressive face was providing the answer “More third eye I suppose”.

“Yes”.

“Don’t ever play cards for money Sansa”.

\-------------------------------------------------------

So here they were then in the Godswood dressed for a wedding. Slightly unusually Arya had arrived first and refused to go back and await being called when the groom appeared. It wasn’t as though there were many present, it was clear this was if not a clandestine affair a discreet one, presumably to save Arya being stared at by an incredulous collection of Lords. For that at least she was thankful; the image of Gendry stood proud and firm next to an obviously pregnant Meera looking at her pityingly had plagued her last night.

Eventually Lysa brought him out, dressed in the sky blue of the Arryn’s with the eagle badge on his cloak. He was trying to cling to her, but she pushed him down onto his own feet, took his hand and dragged him alongside Arya. His voice was a horrible nasal whine “Mama I don’t want to do this, I’m scared, I’ve heard stories about Arya Stark and she isn’t a nice lady. Mama I don’t want to leave you” and he buried his face in her skirts.

Arya had started the morning with a mixture of cold anger, tinged with a bit of shame and healthy dose of regret about Gendry, or even Sandor for the Old Gods sakes. Slowly it had dissipated until the hour of the wedding, a time it was quite obvious had been set so that a very short meal would be followed by her bedding at the sort of hour a six year old needed to be got to sleep. Now she mostly felt numb, she had no idea of what her life would become and she had no trust in her sibling’s reassurances.

Somehow, despite the whiny tone Arya took a minute to think about the boys words. He could hardly be blamed, he was bound to be spoilt with such an overprotective mother and her reputation in the war was still recent enough not to have mellowed with age. No doubt someone had told him if he didn’t behave Arya would just slit his throat like she had his one-time step father’s.

Somehow something in Arya snapped, everyone round here was so busy thinking about inheritance and allegiance that they’d forgotten about the fact that there were human beings involved. She might not be the most emotional person in the world, but a year in a small space with a limited number of people, following on from her time with Sandor Clegane had made her realise that human interaction was based on care and consideration for others and of the two of them she was not the one who needed protecting.

Arya dropped to her knees and shuffled up behind the boy. Thanks the old Gods for being short, she was pretty much at his head height. She put her hands on his shoulders as gently as she could manage “Hello Robert, I’m Arya”.

Initially she got no response, so she stayed there her hands resting as lightly on his shoulders as she could manage and waited. She lost track of time, she would wait here until he turned round and eventually he did. Sansa was right his eyes were largely and watery and at this moment that wasn’t something disgusting it was just another reason he needed protecting. Arya wasn’t thinking things though here but a massive dose of motherhood was flooding over her. “So Robert, are you going to invite me into your castle in the proper way”. Desperately she tried to remember the proper format of the game in case she needed to prompt him.

Robert gave her a very serious look, “No Lady Arya, we are not at my castle and I cannot invite you into my castle until we are properly married”.

Arya could almost hear the gasp around the group that he had come out with such a useful sentence. “Well then I think you should start playing the game, ‘Marrying Arya Stark’ don’t you. If I stay on my knees you can reach to put the cloak around my shoulders”, and he did, with a little help from Arya and his mother he got her wolf cloak off and placed the eagle one on her shoulders. In other circumstances Arya might have made a comment to her husband at this point about taking the wolf off her but never out of her, but she knew he wouldn’t understand and at this point she wanted the ceremony done. They must have said some words but Arya couldn’t remember later what they were and then they were walking hand in hand back into the keep.

\------------------------------

Arya’s assumptions had been correct; the meal was as small and private as the ceremony and lasted about an hour. No one got drunk, no foul language or suggestive remarks. Having avoided food earlier in the day largely due to her foul temper Arya actually found herself hungry and ate quite heavily. Robert nibbled at a few sweetmeats and then sat back in his chair. Clearly Sansa and his mother were watching him because the meal was brought to a hasty close and people approached to lead them away for the bedding. Once the women were alone Lysa came quickly up to Arya “You don’t have to go through with this. I can go and find him and take him and put him to bed”.

“No I’m his wife now, I’m sure you mean well Lysa, but he _sleeps_ with me”, she’d stressed the word sleeps in case Arryn thought she had any other ideas “He needs to grow up a little bit and this will be an easy way of breaking him of more childish habits”. Lysa looked like she might want to disagree but Arya gave her her best ‘firm’ expression, she hoped it came over as firm and not dangerous.

They’d done the job properly for her, her wedding shift was the very best linen spun so thin it was see through so when the women removed her outer clothes she stood as near naked as made no difference. Somewhere a voice behind her said “What a waste of a beautiful young body” before they put the cloak back round her so she was decent. Then she was processed ceremonially into the bed chamber. Robert was already there between her brother in his chair and some man Arya didn’t know but who was either Lysa’s new husband or her Hand. He too was in his cloak and a shirt of sheer linen. Unusually for a husband he had a stuffed doll in his hand. Arya put her hand out to him “Come husband lets to bed, then we can let all these people go back to the feast while we enjoy a good night’s rest”.

The men got him into his side of the bed, Arya didn’t bother telling them she’d be sleeping on that side once they were gone, and removed his cloak. Then the ladies put her in beside him and removed her marriage cloak. Briefly Arya was aware that her breasts, still in her view very small and not properly grown, breasts were on display. No one however was stopping and neither of the men passed comment. The hangings around the bed were closed and her sister’s voice came from the door. “Sleep well”, the door shut with a heavy thud.

Over the years Arya had heard stories of boys hiding themselves in the bedding room to listen in to the performance behind the curtains, but she thought it unlikely this time so she simply turned to Robert who had sat very still next to her. “So Robert shall we play games or are you ready to go to sleep”.

“What sort of games”.

“Well we could play maidens and monsters, you have to chase me and catch me”.

“I’ve never played that before, I’m not sure I’ve got the energy to chase you, and what would I do if you chased me back”.

“Well let’s just snuggle up for tonight then”. She looked at him as best she could in the half dark of the drawn curtains, he was watching her and his bottom lip was trembling. She took his hands, he didn’t resist “I know this is all very scary for you but I promise to be as good a wife to you as I can. I’m not your Mama but I’m going to try very hard to do anything I can that’s good for you and make you happy”.

His lip was still wobbling.

“So what’s the matter Rob, may I call you Rob, Robert seems very formal”.

By now tears were slipping down his face. His head did manage a nod.

Arya slid over to him and wrapped her arms around his body, gods he was thin there was nothing of him, she kept a firm control on her hug for fear of crushing him.

He stretched his arms round her and looked up into her face, still with tears dripping down his cheeks “I can’t do it”.

“Do what”.

“Bed you properly”, he pushed his doll up against her chest and jiggled him about.

Shit! Arya realised someone had told the kid at least a bit about what he was meant to do in a bed with his wife. “You can do everything I want you to do tonight”.

“No I have to do it properly or we aren’t really married and you can get rid of me any time you like and mama has said I can’t go back to her ever again”. Tears were streaming down his face and there was a hicuppy sob before he buried his face in Arya’s chest .

If Arya could have got hold of whoever had filled him with this rubbish, well technically it wasn’t rubbish it was the law but to her it was rubbish, that person would have been suffering intense pain. “I will never leave you Rob, never and I don’t make promises lightly”. As she said it just for a second she asked herself how true the statement was then she determined it would be true, she would make it true come hell or whatever else. Neither of them had picked this, he couldn’t do anything about it but she could and she was going to.

“I should still try, I’m not a man if I don’t and then I can’t ask you into my castle properly”. The tears had temporarily stopped, but he looked as though they would restart at one more contradiction.

“Well come on then but you have to be gentle with me the first time”.

“I don’t know what to do”.

“Well I’ll show you exactly what I want you to do. I know wives are expected to obey their husbands, but you’re going to have to get used to the idea that at first I’m going to be, let’s say ‘making suggestions’. Now take your shirt off and I shall take my shift off”. 

They both did and his eyes never left her face. Arya lay flat on her back. “Now come and give me a hug and a kiss”.

He lay down on her chest, spread his arms out round her and put his lips to hers, it was a peck like he was saying goodnight to his mother. He looked her in the face again.

Arya was thinking for all she was worth, how much had he been told, what was he thinking he had to do. The last thing she wanted to do was fake something he didn’t understand and frighten him. She put her arm round his body

“Now we rub belly buttons” and gently moved him forward and backward a couple of times the way he’d moved his dolly on her, the way she realised he was still holding it against her; then she gave out her most dramatic sigh “AaaaH” and kissed him briefly. “That will do for the first time; I’m really quite tired after all the fuss and the eating”. The look on his face said he’d fallen for the trick; he smiled at her and slid his body down onto her breast. For one second Arya thought he was going to try and suckle but he turned his head sideways and stuck his thumb in his mouth instead. Arya lay very still and willed herself to relax. She could feel his body on hers, every little detail of elbows and knees and things, she could feel his chest rising and falling, just. His heartbeat was too faint to detect. She felt a small tear slide down her own cheek, he was so small and helpless and it didn’t matter how spoiled he’d been he was with her now and slowly she would make a man of him in every way.

Fuck the lot of them, sitting down stairs drinking and undoubtedly congratulating themselves on the way they’d used both of them. Arya Stark liked nothing better than a fight and a fight they would get. Robert Arryn would be Warden of the East and Defender of the Vale one day and he would father children to succeed to both those titles and to the North at the very least, and Arya Stark would leave a trail of corpses in her wake if anyone opposed them.

On her chest Rob stopped making little sucking sounds on his thumb and looked up at her. She must have been scowling because he scooted back up and gently kissed her on the forehead, just like her father used to. She heard a little voice say “I love you” before he returned to snuggle between her breasts and fall asleep.

\--------------------------------------------

An hour later Sansa’s curiosity got the better of her and she sneaked into the bedchamber. She expected to find Arya sat in the room outside the bed and was all prepared to say she’d come to give her some company. All that she found, when she finally sneaked a look though the curtains, was the married couple, naked and curled round each other asleep.


	2. For the Romantics

Clearly Arya had had easy passages to and from Braavos. She was alright in the Narrow Sea, but the moment the ship put its nose into the big rollers of the deep ocean she retired to her cabin and started to heave. A week later they put her ashore at Salt Shore before she starved to death. The skippers words would rattle in her brain for the rest of her life “Don’t fret it girl, some folk just aren’t suited to sailing”.

So she was back in Westeros with her whole life before her and no idea what to do next. She took a horse back to King’s Landing where she found her siblings still re-arranging the country with a few key Lords including Gendry Baratheon. He was persistent and she was frankly just a little desperate. There were political strings, she would become Arya Baratheon-Stark, her first son would be called Baratheon and inherit everything that name brought with it, the eldest girl or if her first born was male her second child regardless of sex, would be called Stark and inherit the North from auntie Sansa. To symbolise this she would be married with a special cloak depicting both house colours and badges. She would concede power today for so much more for her children tomorrow. Gendry also made it plain he didn’t intend to supervise her day to day activities or force her to behave in a ‘Ladylike manner’.

Well before their wedding night, in fact before the contracts and treaties were signed Arya sat down with Gendry.

“This isn’t going to be easy for me to say and it may come out wrong the first few times so please can you be patient”.

“Yes”.

“You know I’m ambivalent about marriage and children”.

“Yes”

“You know I tried to sail away from here for exactly that reason”.

“Yes”.

“I don’t know how I’m going to react to getting pregnant”.

“I’m not sure any woman does, they might think they will, just like men like to think they know how they’ll react in their first battle, as I discovered in my first battle it’s more complicated”.

“And that’s what frightens me most, you’re always so understanding and tolerant and I’m not. All through our marriage I’m frightened I’m going to be forcing you into things and that eventually you’ll have had enough and we’ll realise we never should have done it”.

Gendry went very quiet after that quite a while. “It’s a risk I’m prepared to take”.

“See, you’re being very reasonable again”.

“It’s who I am, if you want something else you have to go to someone else and if you do, even at this late stage, I’ll support your right to do so. I’m sure that you could have a wide range of men. I know some of them would not be deemed suitable by your family, but I’d support your right to pick the man you wanted”. Gendry could see a little tear forming on the edge of Arya’s eye. He moved across and took her in his arms and held her. He heard one muffled sob and then there was a long pause with nothing said. Gendry was comfortable with this, he didn’t need to say things with Arya, that he felt was a big part of why he loved her.

Eventually she looked up into his face. “We could move on from just hugging if you want, it’s not as though I’d be losing anything”.

“No, I’ve thought about that, our first time in the storeroom was very special, but it has complications attached to it. I want our wedding night to be equally special for other reasons, so it’s not just going to be one more night in what I hope will be a very long line. I want to make it special in different ways, so that when we’re old and grey it’s still one of the two big nights of our lives”.

“See that’s another thing that frightens me about you, you’re so bloody romantic I can’t believe I’m ever going to match up to your standards”.

“You don’t have to; you just have to be you. I fell in love with you, not a fake you you put on to attract me”.

“It seems like you fell in love with a very young me and I’m not sure you’ve caught up with how I’ve changed as I’ve grown and we’re not talking bigger breasts here”.

“You think I don’t know about your dark and murderous side”.

“Pretty much”.

“I did things in the Battle of Winterfell I never thought I could because I thought I was too nice a person, but I was wrong I did them. I’m sure the same applied to you. I know you’re not a little fluffy bunny, you never were, the way you stood up to people trying to bully you when I first met you, having the guts to try and pretend to be a boy and possibly harder, conning Tywin Lannister so he didn’t work out who you were. Maybe that’s actually what I like about you, you have the confidence I don’t. They’ve made me Lord Baratheon, I can’t read and I don’t behave like any of the other Lords, even Bran, struck in his chair with The Three Eyed Raven in his head, behaves like he belongs, because he does belong; I don’t. You’re my protection against all that.”

“So you’re only marrying me because I’m a high born Stark”.

“No, remember you said something’s might come out wrong, well if that’s what you think then that bit came out wrong”.

She took hold of his head and gave him a long and increasingly passionate kiss. When they broke, very unwillingly on Arya’s part, she looked up at him “You’re also no good at spotting when I’m joking”.

\----------------------------------------------

So the wedding day came round. Inevitably with the political fate of half the kingdom dependant on Arya’s fecundity the place was heaving with everyone who was in any way important and lots more who weren’t but were invited to show just how rich and powerful the two families were. The couple also insisted that there should be food handouts to the small folk throughout both the Baratheon and Stark territories, a move that even embarrassed some of the other lords into making the same move.

As a result of the mass numbers the wedding feast went on far longer than either of the couple wanted, Gendry because he still felt completely out of place sat at high table between Sansa and his bride, with Bran sitting next to his sister and Arya because she was frankly getting just a bit impatient to bed her husband. Eventually however everyone decided it was time to start the process and they were both taken off and prepared.

Arya found herself in a room full of women, half of whom she didn’t even know, the vast majority of whom thus had no idea they were not dealing with a poor innocent little virgin girl on her way for her first time with a man. As a result she and Sansa kept exchanging silly grins and eventually a fit of the giggles broke out. This produced many reactions, ranging from amazement that Arya could be so relaxed, disgust that she wasn’t taking the whole thing seriously enough, to one or two of the younger women beginning to wonder if in this case one and one did make two, or maybe even more.

Eventually she was lead into the bedchamber. As per custom Gendry was already there and as soon as Arya was present the men around him went to remove his cloak to leave him in his shirt, and due to the fine linen used for the bedding ceremony effectively naked.

“You can stop right there, I don’t care if the ladies get to gawk at me but I’m not having you all letching over my wife. It may be what Lords do, but it’s not the way I was taught to show my respect for any woman least of all Lady Arya Stark the saviour of Westeros. You may all withdraw, we are quite capable of climbing into a bed by ourselves”.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Sansa spoke up, “Lord Baratheon has made himself quite clear, I’m sure there is plenty of wine left at the tables” and began herding the women out of the door behind her.

A minute later they were alone. “Now you can take your cloak off and I, and only I can enjoy the privilege of the beauty that is a naked Arya Stark”.

Suddenly Arya felt coy, clearly he intended to stand there and look her over.

“Come now my lady, I am sure, young as you are, that you have plenty of things to delight me with”.

The realisation struck Arya, he was playing her, Gendry, the most serious, honest, upright and straightforward man she’d ever known was teasing her. Well two could play at that game, “My lord is it not the Lady’s privilege to see her husband first, less he is sadly deformed and she must at the very last take the option of running off and becoming a Septa”.

“As ever your ladyship is correct” and he dropped his cloak to the floor.

Arya didn’t even wait until she’d taken a look before she dropped her own cloak and started towards her husband, but clearly he wasn’t finished.

“Hold my lady I must ensure I have not been deceived as to your delicate beauty” and suiting actions to words he took her shoulders to keep her at arm’s length, examined her slowly with a critical look on his face, turned her slowly round and she presumed as she was facing the wall, examined her from the rear.

All sorts of emotions were fluttering in Arya’s gut by this time; she wanted to stop playing and get on with it, she was still a little uncertain of her womanliness due to her small size and she was amused that Gendry was presuming to take charge, realising that he obviously did have a sense of humour. Finally she found herself back facing her husband, but still held at arm’s length; apparently he still had more to say.

“Finally My Lady I must observe that as per your previous instructions I have taken my own bloody breeches off”. He then pulled her to him, their lips met, tongues entwined, bodies touched and mother nature went vigourously to work to produce the first heir to one throne or another.

Some significant time afterwards as they lay side by side contemplating the panelling on the roof of the bed Arya rolled on her side, draped herself over her husband and looked down into her face. “Was that special enough for you”.

“I think I’m so in love with you that every night will be so special because I can’t believe it’s happened again”.


	3. Surealistic Erotic literature

And so here they were sat at the wedding feast waiting to be allowed to touch each other as man and wife. Arya could feel her pulse throbbing and heat building in her gut. She reached out and touched Sandor’s fingers and the electricity sparked between them. He turned his head towards her “Will they get on with it”.

Eventually they did, Arya was stripped down to her gauzy linen shift, recloaked and taken into the bedding chamber to meet her Lord. There after a fair bit of well-meant advice from those unaware of the occurrence before the Battle of Winterfell they were left to their own devices.

The cloaks hit the floor, both shift and shirt went up to their armpits, the tide surged up the beach, each wave pounding harder and harder, forcing its way further and further inland, the flood sweeping all before it. Strange cries that might have been sea birds echoed through the sky. Then the heat and the larva struck back, slower than the tide it rolled down the slopes of the mountain, red hot, the water may have hardened it’s outer crust but the core kept coming and the temperature rose as the flow increased. Then it happened, the ever growing cone collapsed and the lava and water truly met and mingled producing a massive amount of steam, resulting in a huge eruption. The shock wave didn’t just make the earth move it shook the globe and was felt in faraway places. The sound of the bang echoed far and wide, startling the preternaturally nervous and drawing adulatory comments from easily impressed old men.

What goes up must come down and when gravity finally reasserted it’s authority over all the liquid matter the rain spread far and wide and gave the servants one hell of a cleaning job the next morning. The water washed into the now levelled crater, small bubbles of lava escaping caused minor ruptures to continue to shake the firmament for several minutes. Eventually one of them found the oxygen to speak.

“Why did we wait this long”.

“I don’t know, but I know there are two tides every day so don’t make too many plans for the rest of the month”.


	4. The Smutty Book

Arya Stark had sailed once round the world; disappointingly there was nothing West of the Sunset Sea except Essos so she keep going and came home. When she made it back to Winterfell she was greeted by her sister and her Hand Sandor Clegane. That night when Sansa had gone to bed Arya button holed Sandor and dragged him into her room.

“How goes it then”.

“I’m getting nowhere. Oh she’s fond enough of me, in her own little way she might even admit to loving me if you got her drunk and pushed her; but I’m afraid it sounds nasty to say but Sansa’s broken inside. She’s not going to let me or any other man touch her sexually”.

“Shit, are you sure”.

“Yes, I’ve been patient, I’ve been gently teasing, I’ve been mildly flirtatious”

Arya though it was a shame she’d missed that.

“And none of it has done me the least good. I may be her best friend, her most trusted advisor on any matter but her sex life and her Hand of iron if violence is required, she even sings for me bless her, but those are very definitely my limits”.

“I’m sorry, I really did think she might thaw for you, it wasn’t an absolute lie, I was hoping to come back and find her with a glazed look on her face and a massive bulge in her stomach”.

“Not your fault Wolf Girl and I’m glad you did what you did, life here isn’t as bad as all that”.

“Well where do we go from here, the wars over, the world is round and not as interesting as I’d hoped and Sansa poor little bird will remain an ice maiden for ever”.

“How good’s your memory Wolf girl”.

“Sometimes too god for my own peace of mind”.

“Was I that bad”.

“Gods not you Sandor, lots of other things but not you. No I’d say you were tolerant, surprisingly sensitive and knowledgeable and deeply satisfying”.

“We are talking about the same thing”.

“When you took my cherry before the Battle of Winterfell”. That stopped him, there was a distinct pause before he next spoke.

“Really, I don’t want to sound at all disbelieving”

“But you are and you’re wrong. You took my virginity in the sense you were the first man to arouse me and penetrate me. Plenty of other things had been inside and I’d had plenty of practice by myself first, but you were definitely the first man. I did tell you so”.

“You did but when it was so physically easy I thought you’d either been abused or just wanted to play the ‘first time before I die’ card to persuade me”.

“No every word was true Sandor. Surely we spent enough time together for you to know I don’t make things up”.

“Aye, I’ll grant you brutal honesty is one of your strong points”.

“Do I have others”.

“Well if we’re returning to that night in Winterfell, I’d have to say you were energetic and enthusiastic and I too found it deeply satisfying”.

“Thank you; and since then have you found anyone to match me in my enthusiasm”. 

“You know I haven’t; I’ve been trailing my coat in front of your sister, I can’t afford to be trying it on with the servant girls, she’d find out in a day or two. Besides I’ve still got this face, you may see beyond it but plenty don’t”.

“But you’re convinced that Sansa will never say yes”.

“Sadly, very sadly, yes”.

“Suppose I said that in those circumstances I’d be prepared to offer you a repeat performance”.

“Really”.

“Yes, this time you wear a sheepgut sheath for the final act. I had one with me last time but in the excitement forgot to give it you. There was a lot of mucking about with Moontea and a messy evening after as a result”.

“So this is sex for the fun of it, no lovey dovey stuff, no requirement for marriage”. Sandor noted she didn’t have an instant answer to that question.

“I want to say yes, but I’ve got to be honest; afterwards when I was lying next to you, falling asleep, I was getting a funny feeling in my gut and it wasn’t dodgy food. Plus let’s face it if we keep going long enough something is going to stick inside me eventually”.

“You weren’t next to me, you were draped across the top of me; and yes I’ll be honest that felt good for me too. Obviously if you end up with child, we’ll end up married, unless you fancy running away from your sister to live rough”.

“It sounds like we have an arrangement. But for one thing”

“Which is”.

“I’m going to give my sister one last chance, tell her straight I’m going to if she doesn’t”.

“That’s going to make looking her in the eye the next morning interesting. We usually say ‘Good morning, did you sleep well’ to each other”.

“And you’ll be able to answer ‘Very well thank you’, she will have had her chance”.

\-----------------------------------------------

One evening later in Arya Stark’s bedchamber.

“So she said no”.

“Yes it all got a bit emotional and I’ve said she can have you back if she changes her mind and I’m not pregnant, but I think you’re right she won’t. It’s sad but there it is”.

“So I take it you intend me to start tonight”.

“Well there isn’t the imperative there was last time, but it’s been a while so yes”.

They sat and looked at each other across the bed for a while, then Arya started slowly to undress, first off came the top to let a firm little pair of breasts bounce out. The air was just slightly chilly away from the fire and without the curtains on the bed drawn and Sandor watched as a pair of tiny teats hardened inches in front of his face. Then she knelt up and pushed her breeches down to her knees revealing a mound of dark brown hair. She was still mildly embarrassed by her small breasts, but was correspondingly proud of the mass of hair between her legs. Sandor couldn’t help himself, he sniffed gently, yes she still smelled the same, slightly musty, woody, like those really tasty mushrooms that grew on the edge of the Godswood. She stood up on the bed and slightly precariously got her legs out of her breeches. As she wobbled around above Sandor’s head he got to examine her in ways he hadn’t had time for last time. It was like the petals of a flower, two layers of flesh the inner ones pink the outer one paler. As he watched they reddened a little more and the inner pair opened slightly to show a small cavity within.

Arya let her legs go and bounced down onto the bed. “I haven’t change my rules, you get your own breeches off”.

Sandor didn’t need any further encouragement; his prick was straining to push its way out of the waistband anyway. He didn’t fancy chancing his balance on the mattress so he stepped onto the floor and pulled all his clothes off as quickly as possible.

They faced each other, him standing on the floor, her kneeling on the bed. Arya spoke first, “I’m sure it was bigger last time”

“Cheeky pup”. He made a grab for her and she fell over backwards, he followed up and was on top of her pinning her down, her legs were spread and he wasted no time impaling her on his rod. She gasped, “Still think it’s not big enough”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t big enough I said it looked bigger, but I agree it feels plenty large enough”.

Sandor started with long strokes and felt Arya bucking her hips against his each time he went deep. Then things started to bubble in his scrotum so he pulled out.

“Shit nearly forgot again”, Arya pulled a sheath out from under the pillow and tried to slide it down over him. It didn’t seem keen to go so she put her mouth over his bell end and let as much spitttle as she could produce dribble down his shaft. A second try on a wet prick was more successful, she took the ribbons and tied them round him so it would stay in place. By this time she could see the concentration on his face, he was trying not to explode too soon so she moved away from him and lay back opening her legs again. “Why are men so fast, still come on you can do that little trick where you flick for a bit and then swirl it round really slowly”.

Sandor did as instructed, but to add to Arya’s pleasure he slipped a finger inside her and stroked back towards himself along the top of her sheath. However much faster she had complained he was, it didn’t take her long to get to the moaning and bucking stage. Sandor could feel his cock twitching down between his legs as her legs squeezed his head and she went over the edge of excitement. Rising he drove himself into her again and then everything got very frantic as two bodies humpted and heaved, almost moving the bed until Sandor felt everything boil out of him. As the last twitches subsided he rolled over so that Arya was on top. It was the only practicable way given the disparity in their sizes to avoid crushing her. Arya lifted herself off him and wrapped a cloth round his now shrinking member with the sheath still tied in place.

“To catch the drips”. She lay back down and arranged herself under his shoulder, then moved up so that her face was next to his, gently, very gently she started to kiss the scar tissue moving slowly towards his mouth. Finally their lips met for a long moment before Arya pulled away and looked own on him. “If I tell you now I’ve got that funny feeling again. It’s like nothing in the world could get any better now and it’s all because of you”. She closed her eyes and lay back down with her head on his chest.

Sandor knew he was taking a risk “This is where you want me to say I love you too, isn’t it. I know what you mean and I feel the same, but is that love I don’t know”. There was a pause and no answer so he felt he’d better go on “But I know that it’s a feeling I want to happen again and again and I want you to be the one to make it happen”. He heard a little sigh.

“Well that’s all I wanted to hear”. As Arya felt Sandor’s breathing deepen as he slipped easily into sleep her mind had one simple thought in it. “Sorry Sansa I let him go once, never again”.


	5. Perverted Pornography

Well that’s what you get for being the younger sister. When Sansa ran off with Sandor ‘The Hound’ Clegane before her marriage to Joffrey Baratheon, Arya found that she had been rammed into a political marriage that no one really wanted, but didn’t seem to be able to find a workable alternative to.

Now here she was in the room outside her bedding chamber having her pubic hair shaved off before she could complete the bedding ritual. Since she had only just manged to grow enough to feel she was really grown up, she was particularly peeved by this. When the older Baratheon women had finished with her she felt that she looked like a chicken plucked for the pot.

She was lead into the bedding chamber and placed on the bed on her back, legs wide apart for all present, and the room seemed to be packed with every post pubertal boy from the seven kingdoms, to get a good view and pass comment on whether she was ‘tidy’ enough.

Joffrey came in, he too had been shaved down to the skin. Arya looked at him and thought “Good job too, if it looks that small with no hair round it I’d have been struggling to find it in a proper bush”. He paraded around the bed a couple of times shaking it around a bit in an effort to impress. It was frankly still neither much to look at nor performing overly impressively. Thinking she really should try and help out Arya came up on her hands and knees and took Joffrey in hand, meaning to see if she could tickle his fancy, but scarcely had she got her hands round his still frankly limp member than he grabbed her head and rammed himself into her mouth. Well at least she’d found out what got him going as he took her hair in his hand and used it to bounce her head forward and back on his shaft she could at least feel that her mouth was filling with something stiffening rapidly. Pulling out Joffrey stood back up to let everyone get a good look at his best erectile effort then he grabbed Arya’s ankles and pulled her towards him. Spreading her out with his fingers he pushed himself inside an inch or so and started on what was clearly a routine, she got twenty strokes from the front, then she was turned over and given twenty from behind, then he lay on his back and got her to sit on him so that everyone at the bottom of the bed could get the very best view of her genitals as she performed squat thrusts on him.

All the while Arya was thinking “Nope, that’s not my clit either”.

Finally he returned to the front and actually made deep enough penetration that for almost half a minute Arya felt just the tiniest stirring in her groin. She might have felt more if a couple of the bigger boys at the end of the bed hadn’t lost control and gone for the vinegar strokes leaving a sticky mess on her feet. At this point Joffrey pulled himself out and half turning so he was clearly in view of his audience added to the mess by finishing himself off by hand all over her belly. He didn’t quite turn and bow to the crowd, which was a good thing because the moment his last drip had hit Arya’s stomach they were out of the door and heading down the corridor to their own rooms for their own satisfaction.

Joffrey turned to his new wife, “I know that was probably a bit much for you for the first time, but as you get in the swing of things we can make it last much longer”.

Arya looked up at him, while she tried to mop the various dribbles off with her shift. What she said was, “That would be marvellous darling”; what she thought was, “I’ve had more fun with a piece of soap in the bath”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I could have made this worse, underage incestuous sadistic rape with a snuff ending, [just like GoT really] but I didn’t and I suppose that shows where my limits are.
> 
> As usual please comment, even if you want to criticise. We could even run a little competition in the comments, where everyone scores the chapters from first to fifth.


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